AWAY ALL BOATS!
Chapter Four

The Titanic was dying. All of her lifeboats were now gone, leaving fifteen hundred people to fend for themselves as their ship slid into the freezing cold water of the North Atlantic under their feet. It was a state of absolute panic, fight or die, hundreds of people with the same maddening idea, to get higher than the water at any cost.

Robert had never seen this kind of panic before. A trampling crush of humanity, men, women, and children of all social classes were now one, money and status meant nothing as they fought to survive. Even as he ran, he could feel the deck slipping away faster and faster. The sense of panic that had scrabbled at his mind for the last hour and a half was now screaming at him, begging him to move faster, to lose his mind and follow the mob.

Stay calm, now; you’re an officer, for God’s sake! Robert told himself, suppressing the panic as best he could. The storm came to mind again, the helpless terror he’d felt as a teenage boy clinging to his shattered little boat. For the first time in his young life, Robert had been sure he was going to die. He was no match for the pitiless ocean. That feeling was back now and even stronger.

Some passengers decided to jump overboard into the sea. Robert cringed as he saw two young men fling themselves over the side. It was a long fall to the water and the shock of the impact might very well kill them both. He only saw one head bob to the surface. I have to stay onboard as long as I can. Jumping is a bad idea.

Neither Gregory or Mr. Lightoller were anywhere to be seen, but they were either part of this mad throng or had been washed into the sea. He hoped they would make it to a lifeboat fast. One had only a few minutes in water this cold before they had serious problems.

"I love you, Elizabeth," Robert whispered. He hoped that she knew how much he truly loved her and that he was thinking about her at the very end. It was all the young officer could do to maintain his footing on the steeply sloping boat deck. Her teak deck plating was becoming extremely slippery. Already people were falling and sliding all around him.

Someone ran into him from behind. Robert grabbed for a fall line but missed. Arms swinging, Robert tumbled off the boat deck. He had only a few seconds to brace himself before he struck the black water. Instantly, his breath was torn from his lungs and he inhaled sharply. The cold was incredible, like razor sharp knives being driven into his skin. His heart nearly stopped and he couldn’t breathe. His vision went nearly black. I’m dying, Robert thought. This is what it feels like to die!

Elizabeth’s beautiful face appeared in his mind, smiling in that lovely way of hers. I have to stay alive! For her! Robert forced his eyes open. The Titanic was like a mountain in the water before him, all the lights still burning. He looked up just in time to see the first funnel crack off and slam into the ocean with a gigantic splash, crushing God knew how many people in the water.

I have to get out of the water! he realized. Extreme cold was sapping the strength right out of his muscles. Already his arms and legs were becoming stiff. It was nearly impossible to swim. The lifeboats floating nearby seemed miles away now. There was no way he could reach them before he froze to death. Even a strong swimmer had no chance in this water. Every stroke was agony, taking all of his fading strength. He could feel himself getting weaker by the second.

Summoning all of his strength, Robert fought his way through the water. His breaths came faster and faster. I thought I knew what cold was, but this is even worse! It was all he could do not to just slip under the water and drown.

Robert spied what looked like an overturned boat a few yards away. At least a dozen or so men were standing or sitting on the swamped craft with twice that number floating next to it. As fast as he could, the young officer swam towards it, his strength ebbing away by the minute.

Swim, damn you! Swim for your bloody life! Robert cursed himself. The boat seemed impossibly far away. I can’t make it! I just can’t! His eyes began to drift closed and he felt the water swallowing him up. It was a fitting death for a sailor…

…Elizabeth’s face hovered in front of his eyes for a long moment…

…I love you so much…

…Robert’s world slowly went black...

"I’ve got ya, mate! Up you go!" a distant voice called. Robert felt strong hands grab his arms and drag him out of the water. He could hear men yelling and shouting at each other. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw that he wasn’t quite dead yet, but floating on top of the overturned boat. It was Collapsible B, the boat they couldn’t get loose before the Titanic began her plunge.

Robert wrapped his sodden greatcoat around himself in a vain attempt to stay warm. To his horror, ice crystals were already forming over his coat, hands, and face, even in his hair. A few more seconds in there and I would have frozen solid! he thought.

"Who’s in charge here? What are we going to do now?" a man sitting next to Robert demanded. From his clothing, he was most likely a passenger. The men were a ragged mix of both passengers and crew, but he couldn’t see any officers besides himself. Where did Lightoller go? Should I take command? What do I do?

"Is that you, Robert?" a familiar voice called from the bow of the boat. He looked up and saw Charles Lightoller doing a literal balancing act on the slippery hull. The second officer looked half frozen to death, but his voice was strong. Robert nodded and tried to stand up, his legs buckling under him. His feet were completely numb. I’ll be lucky if it’s not frostbite.

"Y-yes, s-sir!" Robert stuttered. The cold was making it very hard to talk. His face muscles were locking up. But the fact that Lightoller was here made him feel a lot better. If anyone could get them out of this, it was Charles Lightoller. The second officer took a quick survey of the forty or so men clinging to the swamped lifeboat. It was obvious they would flip the boat over if some kind of order wasn’t established.

"God almighty!" a man exclaimed, pointing at the Titanic. Robert was almost afraid to look, not wanting to see her go down. But even his eyes were riveted to the sinking liner. Her mighty stern was almost perpendicular to the water at a forty-five degree angle. She couldn’t stand the strain for very long.

The young officer could see hundreds of people clinging to the stern rail, like a swarm of honeybees. Suddenly, the Titanic’s blazing lights blinked out, came back on, and went out for good. The North Atlantic was plunged into an eerie blackness. Robert could hear the terrified screams from hundreds of throats. It was a sound that nearly wrenched his heart from his chest.

At first, Robert thought he was seeing things. But a massive crack was slowly spreading from the liner’s keel all the way up to her boat deck. Bulkheads split and cracked violently. A sound like cannon fire exploded across the water. Before his horrified eyes, the Titanic actually began splitting in two.

The men atop Collapsible B were speechless. Every face was stricken with horror. Robert couldn’t look away from the terrible sight in front of his eyes. It was like a slow motion nightmare. With an ear-splitting roar, the Titanic split in half all the way down to her keel. The massive stern plunged back level into the sea. Robert could see hundreds of people struggling in the water as the stern crashed down on top of them.

He tried to imagine being crushed to death under thousands of tons of steel. What a bloody awful way to die! Overcome, Robert leaned over the side of the boat and vomited. He wasn’t alone either. Almost every man there looked sick.

"Look at that! Her stern’s going to stay afloat!" a man exclaimed.

"Are you daft? It can’t stay up forever," a young deckhand rebuked him. The seaman was right, of course. The Titanic’s massive stern was quickly filling with water. Slowly at first, the stern rose higher and higher into the sky until it was hanging totally vertical in the water. At the rail, hundreds of terrified people were clinging like a swarm of bees.

"That’s bloody horrible!" Robert gasped. Those poor chaps were clinging to a vertical slab of steel with nothing below them but the icy jaws of the North Atlantic. It was a real nightmare that wouldn’t end. Every few seconds, another poor soul lost their grip and dropped to their death. Some began jumping off the stern.

Finally, the stern plummeted under the water until her railing washed beneath the waves. The RMS Titanic was gone. The greatest ship the world had ever seen was lost forever and now fifteen hundred people were damned to a horrible death.

Now a new sound came over the water--the sounds of people, screaming, crying, begging, and bellowing for help as they found themselves in the lethally cold water. Robert had never heard something so horrible in his entire life. Stop it! Just stop it! Please! the young officer silently begged them. He covered his ears with his frozen hands, but it did no good. He could still hear it.

Strangely, Robert found himself thinking of that young couple he’d watched from the bridge moments before the collision. Were they among those screaming innocents? He sincerely hoped not. What frustrated him most was the fact that he and his friends could do nothing about it. Their boat could scarcely move and barely had room for them.

"Officer, sir, this man’s dead," an American passenger called out to Lightoller. Robert jerked his attention from the dying people in the water and turned to see who the man was talking about. The white steward’s jacket and thick gray mustache gave it away.

"Gregory? Oh, my God!" Robert blurted out. It was indeed his longtime friend. Gregory’s entire body was covered in a thick film of ice. He had survived just long enough to find refuge, but it was too late. How many of my crewmates have died tonight? I should be feeling something, but I don’t! Robert despaired.

"Put him overboard. See if you can take another aboard," Lightoller replied. Robert looked up at his superior and could see the sympathy in the second officer’s eyes. But there was nothing else he could do. All that mattered right now was survival. Taking his friend’s arms, Robert gently slid him off the boat and into the water. He could mourn later.

"Give me a hand, mate?" a man called out from the water. Robert grabbed the man’s extended hand and awkwardly hauled him aboard. He was startled to see that it was Harold Bride, the junior wireless operator. The young man smiled as he recognized his rescuer.

"Robert? Glad you made it. Did you see anyone else? Is Jack here?" Bride stuttered through chattering teeth. The former radioman looked like a human icicle. Robert feared he would keel over at any moment. He wrapped his new friend in his arms, trying to keep him warm.

"I haven’t seen anyone else, Harold. But maybe Jack found another boat." Robert was trying to be reassuring and knew he was failing miserably. But what else could he say?

By now, the horrific screaming had died down a little. It was only a few minutes since the Titanic went down and already people were dying in the water. The rest would soon follow. Most of those folks were condemned to death the moment they hit the water.

"Sparks? Are there any ships on their way?" Lightoller asked Bride. The young radioman stumbled and nearly fell back into the water, but Robert caught him again. It was becoming a delicate balancing act on bottom of Collapsible B, with the men leaning right or left to maintain the boat’s center of gravity.

"The Carpathia was the only ship close enough, sir. She’s making full steam for us, might be here in a few hours," Bride reported. His feet were so badly frozen the man could hardly stand and he slowly slid down to a sitting position. The hope of rescue seemed to give the stunned men of Collapsible B some reason to live.

Looking around, Robert could barely see the faint lights of twenty lifeboats bobbing in the glassy smooth sea, all that remained of the unsinkable ship. But floating in between the boats were hundreds of frozen corpses. Robert found himself staring at the face of a young boy, maybe twelve years old. The lad’s eyes were open and staring, his entire body caked in ice. Choking on his tears, Robert forced himself to look away.

Reaching into his pocket, Robert smiled as his hand closed on the gold pocket watch. He’d been afraid it had washed out of his pocket during his swim. The watch had been a birthday present from his mother. He snapped it open and was surprised to see it was only 2:30 AM. This awful night did not want to end.

A quiet descended on the North Atlantic. The Titanic was gone and nobody seemed to know what to do next. Bride’s rescue ship was only an hour or so away. Robert prayed it would arrive before too many more people were lost. His thoughts were turning inevitably to Elizabeth. More than ever, he longed to hold her in his arms and hear that gentle laugh of hers. Don’t worry, my love! I’m still alive.

At long last, the first pastel shades began coloring the distant horizon. It was early dawn on the Atlantic Ocean. The sky was clear and the survivors were awestruck by the beauty of the dawn, brilliant rays of sunlight reflected off a literal wall of icebergs that surrounded them. Ice as far as the eye could see. Was the crash inevitable? Why did we go so bloody fast?

Robert was desperate to sleep. So, when he saw the bright green flash, he dismissed it as a trick of his exhausted mind. But there it was again! And again! What was this? Before long all of the men saw it and began calling out excitedly. Rockets! They’re bloody rockets! The young officer’s heart jumped. Rockets meant a ship!

"About time your friends showed up, Bride!" Robert shouted, and clapped Bride on the shoulder. Bride just smiled tiredly and strained to see for himself. Lightoller shouted for order, to keep the boat stable. But the look of relief on his face was obvious.

"We have to make them see us!" a stoker called out.

"He’s right! We’re too small a target! She might never see us!" another man seconded. Robert watched as a medium-sized liner appeared on the horizon like a guardian angel. He was strangely relieved to see it was a much smaller ship than the Titanic. He might never trust a big ship again. This would do just fine.

In the other lifeboats, survivors lit torches from loose paper and even some women’s hats, anything to make the crew of the Carpathia see them. The Cunard liner killed her engines and glided to a stop amongst the scattered boats. Salvation had finally arrived.

"Stand tall men! Make them see us!" Lightoller shouted. Both he and Robert blew hard and loud on their whistles. The shrill, piercing tones carried over the still waters. Very, very slowly, the waterlogged boat drifted towards the rescue ship.

The Carpathia grew larger every moment until, after what seemed like hours, Collapsible B drifted alongside. Robert could see officers and crew in the open gangway put down rope ladders and slings to help the men aboard.

One by one, they climbed or were hoisted to safety. Lightoller and Robert were the last two off the boat. The younger officer went first. Using all that remained of his strength, the twenty-two-year-old scaled the rope ladder and collapsed into a deckhand’s arms.

"Can you tell me your name, sir?" the man asked in a Cockney accent.

"Drake…Robert Drake...Junior Fourth Officer…RMS Titanic," Robert managed to say. He was dangerously close to passing out. The crewman scribbled the information on a clipboard and a steward took Robert gently by the arm, steering him towards the lounge.

"Right this way, mate. We’ll get you some hot tea and you’ll be all right," the man said in a comforting tone. Numb and half-frozen, Robert allowed himself to be led by the steward. Tea sounded very good right about now. He was alive. That was reason enough to celebrate, Robert decided.

A few hours later, Robert Drake stood on the open boat deck of the Carpathia. He was carefully sipping a cup of hot tea and was beginning to feel remotely human again. The steward had insisted he stay below, but Robert had politely declined. It felt better out here.

Many of the Titanic’s passengers were here as well, sitting on deck chairs or on the bare deck. Everyone was in a state of shock and disbelief. A lot of women were crying because they were now widows. The journey home was going to be a long one.

Sipping his tea, Robert felt the hot liquid warm his frozen veins. All at once, it hit him, the enormity of it all. He recalled standing on the dock at Southampton and staring up at that mountain of a ship. She had seemed invincible, the queen of the ocean.

"They say she’s as unsinkable as a ship can be."

"No matter what we do, Titanic will founder."

"You may get your headlines, Mr. Ismay."

"Stay back, all of you! Women and children first!"

"Give us a chance to live, you Limey bastards!"

Robert’s hands shook and his teacup fell and shattered on the deck. Leaning on the rail, he covered his face with his hands and began sobbing quietly to himself. It was all too much. The iceberg collision, the look on Mr. Andrews’ face when he told Captain Smith the awful truth, and Brian’s father saying good-bye to his small boy and placing him in a boat. First Officer Murdoch shooting himself. The struggle to survive in the icy waters. The worst of all was the face of that dead boy floating lifelessly past the lifeboat.

"Robert, there you are. I’ve been looking all over the ship for you," Charles Lightoller said as he joined the younger man at the rail. The former second officer had a cup of tea as well. Quickly wiping his eyes with his uniform sleeve, Robert turned to face his superior. Lightoller studied him for a moment.

"Have you been crying?" Lightoller asked. Embarrassed, Robert shook his head. But Lightoller merely patted him on the shoulder.

"Don’t be ashamed. That shows you’re still a human being," Lightoller said. For a few minutes, the two officers stared out at the North Atlantic waves.

"I was trying to figure out how it all happened. How did we manage to hit one blooming iceberg in the middle of a huge ocean? Why didn’t we have enough boats?" Robert asked, more to himself than to Lightoller.

"If we had been going a little slower, maybe we could’ve seen the berg in time. Or if we’d listened to the radio messages, we could have avoided the ice flows altogether. But this wasn’t the fault of any one man. The blame rests on too many shoulders," Lightoller explained.

"So, what happens now? Where do we go from here?" Robert muttered. Far below in the water, he noticed a trail of wreckage floating by, including a life ring. The words RMS Titanic were clearly visible.

"All we can do is to make sure this never happens again," Lightoller said. He stepped away from the rail and headed back inside, leaving Robert to study the floating debris for a little while longer.

The End.

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